The Angel And The One
by cthuloops
Summary: "Goodbye Stranger": Castiel, with the help of the Winchester brothers, must court a very human Meg in the hopes that she can provide the answer to closing the gates of hell. But it could possibly end with one or both of them heartbroken. Or worse, dead.
1. Chapter 1

**(AN: This takes place right after "Goodbye Stranger", in which "Meg" the demon is finally killed by Crowley, and Castiel disappears on a, well, bus, it looks like. No episodes after this were taken into account, so please keep that in mind. This is an alternate universe, I suppose, and it contains some sexual things but not actual sex between any of the characters. The first three-four chapters will be with Castiel, Dean, and Sam. Meg appears in the fourth or fifth chapter. Skip to those if you'd like. Also, if you read this please review it with any suggestions! I will check out your ff as well.)**

**1**

_ In her very last moments, Meg Masters the demon knew that her life had come to an end. She knew that Crowley would kill her. But more importantly, he would most definitely kill Castiel and the Winchester brothers if she didn't distract him. If risking her own non-life would save Castiel, then so be it. It was worth it._

_Meg had never been able to vocalize her feelings towards that strange fallen angel that had become ever so important to her. At least, she had never actually said the words. Those words were not meant to be said by a demon to an angel. Those words were human words, and that feeling was a human feeling. Meg was nowhere near human, and Cas? Well, Cas was more human than her, but he also always had that lost puppy look when any feelings were brought to his attention._

_Crowley pulled out an angel blade, holding it up as if to showcase just how shiny it was. A smirk lay on demon Meg's face as she turned to Sam, who looked nothing short of frightened._

"_Go. Save your brother." She said. It came out as mild sarcasm. She knew sending Sam away and inside to meet Dean and Castiel would also mean leaving herself alone with Crowley. She also knows that there was no way in the firey pits of Hell she could completely kill him herself. He wasn't just a demon anymore, after all. He was the King of Hell. Almost as an afterthought, she added, "…and my unicorn."_

_Sam didn't seem to take any notice of Meg's final declaration towards Castiel. He tromped off, leaving the two to face off against one another. That was the closest that Meg would ever get to telling anyone just how strong her feelings towards the angel were. Meg had spoken to Sam earlier about how one girl made him want to change his entire life. Meg dubbed those very rare people "unicorns". Castiel was that person to her. He changed her in ways he would never understand._

_Crowley and Meg faced-off, not bothering to waste much time with witty banter. Unfortunately for the demon, she was soon on her last leg, crawling on the ground and barely able to lift her hand up to swipe innocently at Crowley. He lifted her up by the neck of her shirt roughly, and despite being bloody and torn, this doesn't stop her from also being defiant. She noticed as the Winchesters get into their Impala to leave the area, that Castiel is missing. Her heart leaped; he made it. She mocked Crowley one last time with the fact that now his angel tablet is missing. The words taste so sweet on her tongue, and she internally marks that as a victory._

_With a quick jab of her hand, she managed to slice open Crowley's shoulder. But that would never be enough. Crowley took control of the blade himself and tore into her chest._

_Demons do not have dying thoughts. They feel pain, they are blinded, and then, they go out, like a flame, ever too quickly._

_That marked the end of Meg Masters, the demon that fell in love with an Angel._

* * *

"She deserves a funeral."

Sam had taken to muttering to himself as of late, and Dean hardly noticed anymore, but this seemed to be directed towards him as a conversation starter. It had been three days since they last saw Castiel and the angel tablet, and three days since they had stared out of the back window of the Impala and watched Meg get wasted completely by Crowley.

"I don't… you mean _Meg?_" Dean asked with the hint of a scoff in his voice as he sat down his beer in front of him. Sam hardly looked up from his laptop to nod.

"Do demons even _have_ funerals?" It was hard not to laugh at such an odd request from his younger brother. He wasn't close to Meg; none of them had been. She did help them sometimes but in the past, what did they learn from trusting "nice" demons? Although, Dean did have to admit that Meg was worlds different than Ruby.

Sam shut his laptop and massaged his temples.

"I don't _know_, Dean. I just…" He sighed with his eyes closed before looking up at his brother to finish his sentence. "I feel like we owe it to her, you know?"

"No, I do _not_ know!" Dean laughed again. He tossed a ball towards the wall and let it ricochet back to him. He was leaning back in a chair with his eyes half closed. He thought he should be a little more concerned with the current situation, but he wasn't. Castiel would come back. He knew that much. Castiel _always_ came back.

Dean looked towards Sam and sighed as well, righting himself in his chair and turning to face the table Sam was sitting at. Sam was staring at him with a scowl on his face and his eyebrows crinkled in his normal, brooding fashion.

"I just mean that Meg was trustworthy. We can't say that for a lot of people, or demons, these days."

Dean interrupted before Sam could continue speaking. He mockingly laughed at his brother and slammed his hand down onto the table, palm flat and unmoving.

"Did you not learn anything about trusting demons from Ruby?" He spat out, although he began to immediately regret it. In truth, he knew that Sam was correct. Even though Meg was a demon, she always happened to be there when they needed her. She was sketchy, she was sassy, and Dean had started to consider her a friend. But he hated when Sammy was right. There was no way in hell Dean was going to let Sam know how big of a hypocrite he was.

"_Castiel_ trusted Meg." Sam snapped back, much louder than Dean had done. This elicited an eye roll from Dean, which wasn't the reaction he was expecting. Sam knew Dean saw Castiel as a best friend, a member of their small, broken little family. If Dean didn't trust Cas's judgment, who _could_ he trust? He was, after all, an angel of the Lord.

Dean rolled up his chair to the table that Sam was perched at with his head cocked to the side and an ever so smug grin smeared across his face. That shit-eating grin was the one that Sam hated the most, and kindly wanted to punch right off of the elder brother.

"Yeah?" Dean began as he stood up slowly. _Honestly_, thought Sam to himself as now it was his turn to roll his eyes. _Why must Dean always act like he's in some kind of movie?_ Dean, however, didn't catch the subtle movement of Sam's eyes and continued to glower at him with a smile on his face.

"Well where is our trusty angel now, huh? Has Cas really ever been that trustworthy himself?"

What was Dean talking about? Sam's mind replayed an old memory, of when Bobby was still alive. Wasn't it Dean who insisted against the other two that Cas was loyal to them and not Crowley? Wasn't it Dean who had been the most shocked to learn that the stupid birdbrain was making deals with demons? Of course it had been, but now what? Now it was Sam sticking up for Cas, because he finally understood. Dean never understood anything. He never tried to.

Sam felt guilty for these harsh words in his head against his older brother but deep down he knew that it was at least a small bit true. Dean never wanted to hear the other side of the story, but when it was his turn to tell the other side, everyone had to drop what they were doing and listen up to Big ol' Dean.

"When he wasn't being controlled by some super-bitch in a suit? Yea, I think we could trust him, dumbass!" Sam snapped back.

But Dean was having none of it, and he was definitely beginning to become angry. Sam knew that when Dean lifted his chair off of the ground and slammed it back down onto the floor. This wasn't something new; it seemed like almost every day someone had to clean up a mess Dean made out of rage, whether it be throwing beer bottles, tossing papers and research off of the table, or throwing something.

"What about before that, Sammy?" he said in one of his pseudo-calm voices that he always used when he was really pissed off and trying not to yell. "What about when he was being a complete _assbutt_, as he says, of his own fucking accord?"

Sighing and running his fingers through his dark brown hair, Sam shook his head and stood up. It was pointless to argue about this, and he simply didn't have the energy to do so. He stepped over to a window and stared out.

"You just had… different views. That's all." He muttered towards the window. Warm breath fogged over quickly, and then disappeared. Sam was unsure if Dean had even heard him at all, but he really didn't care. All he wanted to do was kick Crowley's ass, and go to sleep.

"_Vegans_ have a different view too, but you don't see me being completely pissed off at them, right?"

Sam turned his head and stared quizzically at Dean, who just stared at him back. He looked confused himself. It seemed that neither of them knew where the hell that had come from, considering it had absolutely nothing to do with the subject at hand. Dean shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, muttering "I don't know" to himself before tossing his body like a dead fish onto the couch.

That was an argument dismissal, Sam knew. If Dean didn't get his way, he would simply disappear from the argument with some witty, or in most cases, absolutely stupid, retort and walk away. Sam never knew why it was so easy for his brother to ignore his feelings most of the time. Sure, he himself was fairly good at stowing them away, but Dean just seemed to… let them simmer.

Things hadn't been all sandcastles and ninjas between the brothers since Meg was killed and Castiel hauled ass out of Dodge. They sped off into the night in silence until they reached their new home. There they spent an hour and a half calling Castiel's name. It was a stab in the dark, but it was the best they had at that very moment. Cas hadn't come.

The next day was spent fighting amongst each other about absolutely menial things, such as Dean forgetting to replace the toilet paper, or Sam tapping on his keyboard at all hours of the night when Dean was trying to sleep so he could get his drink on as early as possible the nest morning.

The day after that was spent with one brother in the house, stinking drunk and once again calling for his angel, and the other out, investigating a possible case in the area. The case Sam had sought out was a complete bust, and with most of his day wasted, he decided to check out a new bar instead of going home to Dean.

The third day held an angry, hung-over Dean, and a Sam that didn't want to be bothered with bullshit and just wanted his friends back. The entire day had been quiet until the sun had started to make its decent to the other side of the world, when Sam suggested holding a funeral for Meg. He didn't think it such a bad idea, after all. She had been loyal to the very end. And he knew it had been because of how she felt about Castiel, though he didn't have the heart to tell Dean that he nearly lost his best friend to the love of a demon.

"Besides." Dean's voice suddenly sounding from the other side of the couch caused Sam to almost fall out of his chair. Once he was able to completely right himself, he stood up and walked over to Dean, who was laying half asleep watching "Doctor Sexy, M.D". Sam still thought it was an absolutely ridiculous show but whatever kept Dean happy.

"Besides what, Dean?" He asked with a yawn, although he really had no reason to be that tired at that time. It was only around 7:30 at night, and he hadn't been doing anything that required much energy all day. But he was tired nonetheless

"Besides, we don't know where her body is or whatever." Dean managed to slur out.

He did have a point. They had left Megs dead vessel laying where Crowley had killed her, but it was unlikely that it would still be there. Crowley didn't clean up his own messes. Sam wouldn't put it past him to let the hellhounds tear her apart. Either way, there would probably be nothing left of her if she even still was there. Who knew if the police had cruised by and found her laying there, all bloody and torn open?

"Yeah, you're probably right." Sam ran his long, thin fingers through his hair. No point in trying to convince Dean of something that probably wasn't worth the breath. Fatigue suddenly overcame him in a wave that he couldn't seem to ride out by himself. He would have fallen to the floor if it hadn't been for the couch to support his body

Dean grumbled in reply and was snoring within seconds. Why did the world seem so sleepy? Even the floor looked like a comfortable bed to Sam at that moment. It was possible that all his energy had been spent on worrying about the angel tablet, Crowley, and Castiel that now he was just entirely too bushed to give a shit anymore.

His eyes slid closed as soon as his body hit his bed. He drifted in and out of dreams until a knock on the front door carried him back to the waking world.

Sam quietly stepped passed the couch so as not to wake up a passed out Dean with a dagger in his hand. Their HQ was decked in all sorts of mojo that should make them appear off the grid to anyone trying to find them: who in the world could be here knocking on their door?

Sam slowly opened the door and peeked out.

Once he saw who was standing at the Winchesters front door, he swung it open with wide eyes.

"Hello, Sam. I brought pie."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello, Sam. I brought pie."

Standing in front of Sam Winchester at 8:00 at night, sopping wet from the storm that was raging outside with a brown paper bag full of what Sam could only assume was pie in his hand, was none other than Castiel the fallen angel.

Sam was completely at a loss for words. He didn't know whether to hug the angel and risk him becoming terrified suddenly and vanishing, or punching him for the exact same result. Though Dean would probably want to have the first swing at him, Sam thought to himself as he stared at the ridiculously wet Cas.

Castiel stared back at Sam with a grin on his face, which wasn't necessarily normal for him. The only time Sam could remember Castiel smiling like that was when his head was broken. Or around Meg, of course, and she was dead.

"Castiel." He managed to mutter out. Sam sidestepped out of the way to let him tromp inside, tracking dirt and grime from the streets into their home. He made a mental note to clean that up later, after he shook it out of Castiel where the hell he had been those past three days. Dean stirred but didn't wake when Sam called out his name, but he stopped when he felt Castiel's hand on his shoulder.

Sam stepped back to let Castiel take a look at Dean. He leaned over the back of the couch and stared at Dean's face. He was no longer smiling, but had a brooding look on his face and his eyebrows were crinkled with confusion.

"Hello, Dean." He half-shouted, causing the older brother to jump and accidentally roll off of the couch and onto the hard wood floor beneath him. He swore a few times before looking up at the angel's face and the smell of fresh pie wafted into his nostrils. Sam took a step back and tried to drag Cas with him, but the blue eyed man wouldn't budge. Sam knew Dean well enough to know that not only would he conduct several tests to be sure it was the real Castiel, but he would probably enjoy punching his face in as many times as possible.

Sam was indeed right. They had taken to carrying around bottles of holy water and borax in their pockets just in case they ever had to test someone. Their silver blades were always tucked somewhere within reach as well. Castiel, though already soaked, was even more-so a few moments later, when Dean had been sure to give him a good dousing of holy water and borax to the face. Castiel didn't move an inch and waiting for Dean to finish whatever he was doing.

The last test was the blade and Castiel didn't even flinch when Dean slid it across his forearm skin to draw blood. With that out of the way, the two stared at one another for a moment before someone spoke.

"What the hell are you doing here?" So much for a 'Hey Castiel, nice to see you, give me pie.' Dean approached him at an alarming rate and Sam took another step backwards. Perhaps it was time for him to leave the room, let his brother and the angel talk it out for a few minutes. But he would kill to hear the reason Castiel came to them with four pies in a wet trenchcoat. They had called for him and he could have easily 'poofed' himself there, like he normally did. Sam would think Castiel would rather 'poof' to them than walk around in the rain to buy some pie.

"I-I brought you pie…" Castiel said quietly. He sounded as though he was completely confused at the confrontational Dean. He had always been a little strange, but especially when it came to gift giving and trying to calm the waves between himself and others. He liked Dean the most, so it was no secret as to why he brought pie as a sign of friendship. Now all he needed was a bacon cheeseburger, and a porno mag titled "Busty Asian Beauties." And Dean would be putty in his hand.

Sam chuckled to himself at the thought of Castiel picking up porn for Dean, but stifled himself when Dean shot him an angry glance out of the corner of his eye. Now was no time for fun and games; Cas was clearly up to something, once again, and Dean was having none of it.

"I don't give a shit if you have pie or not." Dean's eyes betrayed him as he made an attempt to peer into the brown paper bag that was beginning to fall apart in Castiel's hands. "Where the hell have you been? Haven't you heard us calling for you?"

"I had to protect the tablet." The matter-of-fact tone in Castiel's voice was convincing but it caused Dean to roll his eyes and shake his head, as though he had said something stupid.

"Protect it from _us?_ What the hell do you think we're going to do, use it as a coaster?!"

Castiel cocked his head and stared silently at Dean, clearly very puzzled. Though, what was new? Half the things that came out of either of the Winchester brothers mouths confused the hell out of Castiel, especially any television or book reference.

"Why would I think you would do that?"

The three of them were silent for a moment until Castiel looked down at his bag, as if just noticing it was still there. He held out his hand and tried to pass it over to Dean. Dean looked as though he had contemplated forgetting his quarrel with Castiel for a few minutes while scarfing down a pie, but he instead turned away and gestured to Sam that he wanted to talk to him privately in the other room.

Sam followed him after telling Castiel to wait right there. The angel just stared at them with sullen eyes. Sam hardly took notice as Cas walked around the couch to sit down and watch the television, even though he had no idea what was going on in the show.

"He's hiding something, Sam." Dean said as soon as Sam closed the door behind him. He nodded in agreement. There was definitely something off about the way Castiel was acting. Added to the fact that he deliberately went out in the rain to buy them pie, and his odd smile at the door, Sam was beginning to suspect that Castiel knew something that the Winchesters did not. Dean would be hellbent on finding out what it was even if it killed him (And with their luck, finding out what it was probably _would_ kill him)

"Do you think it has something to do with the tablet?" It was a stupid question, but Sam couldn't deny it was always nice to know where his brother's head was at. For all he knew, Dean was thinking something completely different, something Sam wouldn't even think to bring up. This was, more often than not, a good thing, having their heads in different places. They covered more ground this way.

"I don't know what else it could be." Dean sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, exasperated. Sometimes he felt as though being friends with Castiel was sort of like babysitting. He had a hard time telling others what he wanted and kept way too many secrets. "Did you see how wet he was? What was he doing out in a storm like this?"

"I don't know, man. I was thinking the same thing." Sam was about to offer up a suggestion when there was a knock on the door.

"You know I can still hear you."

Sam and Dean looked at each other with red faces. They both forgot on numerous occasions that Castiel wasn't as dumb as he made himself out to be. He was an angel of the Lord that sometimes acted like a six year old, but he did have exquisite hearing, as he should.

Dean walked towards the door and pulled it open to let Castiel squeeze into the room with them. He hadn't forgotten to bring the pies, and held them out to a reluctant Dean, who rolled his eyes before grabbing the bag and peering inside. /Not bad/ he thought as the smell reached his nose again. Apple, it smelled like. Castiel had gotten him four apple pies. He must have done something ultra-bad that he needs Dean to forgive him for.

Castiel looked between the two brothers with the usual permanent scowl on his face. He wasn't upset about what he overheard, but he didn't like it, either. The Winchesters never fully trusted him, and he knew that. They had every right to feel that way. After all, who could fully trust an angel that disappeared sometimes when they needed him the most? But he was always watching over them, even if it wasn't necessary. Saying that he watched over them constantly would, as he had come to understand, sound "creepy". Although Castiel didn't fully understand how having a literal guardian angel was creepy.

"Would it not have been easier to confront me about your concerns, Dean?" Castiel spoke in his gravelly voice and hushed tones. Sometimes he acted as though others were listening in on him, which made Dean increasingly uncomfortable, considering the fact that it was likely someone _was_ listening in on them _because_ of Cas.

Dean shrugged his shoulders and looked to Sam for help, who shrugged in return. Castiel still stared them down with piercing eyes, and Dean struggled under his gaze. Castiel knew how to make him squirm with just a glance, that was for sure. Before either of the Winchesters could say anything, Cas cleared his throat.

"I do not have the answers to all of your questions, but I can promise you that I am not hiding anything," He was no longer staring at either of them but off to the side as he sometimes did in the middle of his expositions. "Except the angel tablet, of course."

"Whatever." Dean scoffed. He didn't say anything about the fact that he didn't feel Cas needed to hide anything from him. He knew that it was a dead end conversation that Castiel would never say anything more about than what he had already said. That was the problem with Cas sometimes, Dean thought to himself. He never said more than what he thought needed to be said, and sometimes what he thought needed to be said wasn't enough.

"What about the 'forgive-me-Deano-for-I-have-sinned' giftbag, huh?" He asked with a gesture to the bag of pies (He couldn't get his mind off of them for whatever reason and he wanted that conversation to be done with so he could dig right in with an entire pie to himself).

"In the likely event that you would be upset with me for leaving with the tablet, I brought you pie." Castiel made a point to look at Sam as well. "I brought you pie as well."

"Thanks, Cas." Sam gave him a cheeky grin. Whatever this was going on between Dean and Cas, it didn't matter. He was still a good friend to Sam no matter what he did, because Sam knew that he only did what he felt was right. Hell, Castiel risked his own damn sanity to save Sam's brain from liquefying from constant hallucinations of Lucifer. And Sam knew that he would risk even more for Dean if it ever came to it, which it likely would one day.

"Oh come on! Are you two going to start making out with each other?" Dean threw his hands up in the air in what Castiel figured was anger. He cocked his head again and turned towards Dean with his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Why would we-"

"Damn it Cas, just shut up, alright?" Castiel did as Dean told him to and looked at the ground, heaving a large sigh. Sam couldn't help but think he looks almost _hurt_ at Dean's words, but that probably wasn't the case. Cas didn't normally get 'hurt', but more annoyed than anything.

"Look," Dean began again after a few moments. The three of them were still in that tiny room, though no one but Dean seemed to notice this. He began to feel claustrophobic and swung the door open, trudging out. Castiel followed him after casting a glance at Sam, who shrugged and walked out last, closing the door behind him. "Just tell us where the hell you've been, what you did with the tablet, how you found us, and why the hell you look like you've been swimming fully clothed?"

"It is raining, Dean." Cas said as he walked over to the window that Sam had been standing at earlier that night. To make a point, he opened the window and stepped out of the way to let the rain splatter on the floor. He stood there staring at the huge puddle that was beginning to form as Dean rushed over to slam the window shut. Sam ran to the bathroom to grab a few towels and laid them out to soak up the mess Cas had made.

"Cas, what the hell!" Dean gave him a shove that knocked him backwards a few steps. Castiel merely looked at him with level eyes, completely unfazed. Sam had to agree, while looking on, that something wasn't particularly right with Castiel, and it was a little worse than he initially thought.

Before Dean could push him around some more, or verbally abuse him (Which Sam knew was coming next), the angel began to speak again.

"I told you, I was hiding the tablet. I knew you would be upset, so I went around looking for the best pie in town. And I do not know how I found you. I told you I did not know all the answers to your questions." His eyes were swimming with anger as he took a few steps towards Dean. They were almost nose-to-nose and Sam felt a brawl coming on. This wouldn't be the first time that punches were thrown between the two. Things often got bloody.

"Castiel, I swear to God…" Dean growled between clenched teeth. His hands were curled into fists, while Castiel's body looked much more relaxed. His face gave him away, though. Sam could tell just how pissed off he was that Dean didn't believe a word he said.

"I walked in the rain looking for you. And then suddenly I was at your door. I cannot explain it. And I am sorry." Cas was maintaining his cool a lot better than Dean was. Sam couldn't do much more than stare at the two of them. Sometimes they were closer than he and his own brother ever were, but they fought like cats and dogs when it came down to it.

Dean took a step back first and his fists uncurled. He still didn't look happy, but damn it he wanted his pie and he wanted it now. Instead of saying anything to Castiel, he turned tail and fished a pie, still warm, out of the sodden bag he had sat on the ground before he had confronted Cas.

The three relocated to the couch where they sat in silence, Castiel between the two, his head swiveling back and forth like an owls from one Winchester to the other. Sam and Dean both had their own personal pies, and Dean would have gotten started on his second one if Castiel hadn't opened his big mouth.

"There is something that I must share with you two."

**(AN: Castiel couldn't use his regular angel powers to poof to them for reasons that will be revealed later on. Meg will enter within the next few chapters. Any suggestions, please R&R!)**


	3. Chapter 3

"There is something that I must share with you two."

In sync, the two brothers turned their heads to look at Castiel, whose own head was hanging solemnly. He was wringing his hands as if he was anxious, but angels didn't get anxious. They did get worried, though. And Castiel was definitely worried. Dean couldn't help but think to himself that Castiel was always worried, so what was new? But he did just pop out of nowhere with pie, so it wouldn't hurt to give him a listen.

"Well, what is it, Cas? Spit it out." Dean said as he stood up to grab a few beers from the fridge. Castiel didn't need or generally want to drink; he was an angel, after all. Highest alcohol tolerance you could get, next to a demon. He once drank an entire liquor store. But Dean grabbed him a beer anyway, tossing one to Sam and handing Castiel his own. Cas didn't pop it open but instead rolled it over and over in his hands and stared at it like it was something entirely new and fascinating to him.

"It is a Nephilim."

"In English, Cas."

"That is English."

Silence for a few minutes. As soon as Castiel had opened his mouth, Sam was nestled into his laptop, nose buried pages deep in Google. That was one thing Dean loved about his little brother. He didn't have to do any of the "brain" work. All he had to do was focus on whatever hellspawn they were hunting that day and leave the internet research to Sammy.

"Looks like a Nephilim is…" Sam squinted at the screen as though he had read something incorrectly. His face contorted into shock and semi-disgust at whatever he had just seen and looked up to lock eyes with Dean, who was nearly on the edge of the couch trying to decipher Sam's facial expressions. "…the offspring of an angel and a human."

"Is that even possible?" Dean asked with a look to Castiel, who still wouldn't meet anyones gaze. If Dean didn't know better, he would have said that Cas was blushing harshly under the shadow of his face. But Castiel didn't get embarrassed, and anyway, what, in this situation, would embarrass him.

Unless..

"Cas… you're not pregnant are you?" Dean flashed him a large grin, and basked in the glory of hearing Sammy snort as he held back a chortle. Castiel's eyes slowly shifted from the unopened beer in his hands to Dean, his head still not moving. He was now glaring at Dean out of the corner of his eyes. This made Dean increasingly uncomfortable, and it wasn't long until he held up his hands in surrender.

"Now is not the time for jokes, Dean. I am in a male vessel, I cannot get pregnant." Cas said that last bit of information as if it would be news to Dean. Dean just sighed and snatched the beer out of Castiel's sweaty palms and began to chug that as well, forgetting about the two pies that sat, untouched, in a crumpling paper bag.

"Then," Sam asked after closing his laptop and leaning forward to look directly at the fallen angel. "Why do you need to talk to us about a Nephilim?"

Castiel sighed and shook his head. That didn't entirely give the two Winchesters an answer, so they both continued to pry until Castiel silenced them both with a single finger to each of their lips. Sam cringed at his touch. Castiel always managed to surprise them one way or another. He hadn't preformed this trick before, so Sam figured it must have been new.

Removing his fingers, Cas went back to wringing his hands. One thing was sure about the way he was acting in that very moment. This conversation was making him increasingly uncomfortable and if he didn't spit it out soon, he may just flutter away like he usually did when he was uncomfortable.

"Sam is correct. A Nephilim…" The word rolled off of Castiel's tongue as if it stung like venom and tasted of poison. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head again. "Is the product of when a human and an angel procreate."

"We got that already, Cas." You could actually hear the eyeroll in Dean's voice. He couldn't help but think that Cas was just screwing with them, wasting their time with pie and ridiculous stories about whatever a Nephilim might be. Even if it was possible for a human and an angel to have a kid, what did it have to do with them, or Cas, for that matter? Unless Cas had sired a child while he was gone, which Dean knew was impossible, this shouldn't have to be their issue. But of course, as always, Cas was dragging them into _his_ family drama.

Sam knew what Dean was thinking. Why would Cas drag us into this _now_, with everything else they had to deal with at the time? Sam hardly blamed the angel. After all, how could he? They brought him along when they needed him, they at least owed it to him to hear him out when he was very obviously worried about whatever this Nephilim had to do with anything.

"As an angel, you overhear things, you understand."

"Maybe you shouldn't make eavesdropping a habit." Chuckled Dean, but Castiel still wasn't in the mood for his jokes and glared at him again before continuing. Dean cleared his throat and leaned back on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table in front of the three of them.

"There is another way to close the gates."

The gates of hell, that is. Here is a thing you must understand about the Winchester brothers. They hunt monsters, and demons. Of course, you shouldn't have any problem believing in demons. With good, there must be evil to balance it. There was a young prophet named Kevin that had deciphered the twin to the angel tablet. The _demon_ tablet. It included an instruction manual on how to close the gates of hell, and trap evil in there forever. That would solve all of their problems. They would finally be free of the life that had consumed them since they were children.

To close the gates, one must endure three trials, similar to the ones Hercules had to go through. The first task? Kill a hellhound. The tricky thing about hellhounds is only other hellspawn may see them. To everyone else, they appear invisible. Sam was able to save Dean from a hellhound by killing it, thus completing the first task. It took a toll on his body, and Dean was worried about how his younger brother would get through the second, and third ones.

Hearing that there was an alternative to the task? Well, that just made them so giddy they almost leaped out of their meatsuits, if it was even possible for a human soul to do that.

"Castiel you better not be fucking around or I _swear_ I will punch you." Dean made a point of holding up a fist, but Cas didn't seem to take any notice of his threat. He instead heaved a heavy sigh and stood up off of the couch, walking around and right back to the window. His shoes made a comfortable clicking noise on the wooden floor, but ceased to continue once his feet had hit the towels Sam had lay down to soak up the puddle that formed.

"I am not, as you say, 'fucking around'." He rested his forehead against the window and let his breath fog it up. "You are not supposed to know about this, but I feel that this information would be vital to you."

"But why?" Sam spat out in confusion. The pain he had felt upon killing the hellhound was enormous, though he had at one time felt much worse. He didn't want to feel like he went through that for nothing. Plus, once you start something, it must be finished. What if Sam didn't continue the trials? What would happen to him then?

Castiel looked over at him slowly and noticed the fear in his eyes. Castiel opened his mouth to comfort the younger of the brothers, but nothing came out. He couldn't find the words to explain just how sorry he was, and he really didn't want the both of them to be upset with him. This was something they needed to hear, whether they liked it or not.

"Dean and I- we risked out asses out there with that stupid hellhound!" Sams voice rang out through the stronghold. He was beginning to shake, but Castiel couldn't figure out why. "Are you telling me that we did that for _nothing?!"_

"I thought you would be pleased to hear that you do not have to continue with the final two tasks…" Castiel turned towards him and met his eyes, but Sam was shaking his head in disbelief, as though it was the angels fault that there had been another way all along, one that was not written along with the trials on the demon tablet.

"We are, Cas." Dean said softly as he stepped forward, past Sam, and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. The tables had turned and now it was Sam's turn to be upset with him. Cas couldn't help but think back to a time where no one was mad at anyone. How he wished that could still be the case. But with all the secrets and drama and denial they went through on a daily basis, he wasn't sure that was possible anymore.

"Just tell us what we have to do. But," Dean cast a glance over his shoulder at Sam, who was still fuming. "What's going to happen to Sam?"

Castiel sighed and shrugged away from Dean's hand. The Winchesters watched as the angel paced back and forth between them and the couch with his hands behind his back, his fingers intertwined with one another. Dean thought he looked like a detective. All he was missing was a hat and a pipe. He made a mental note to pick those things up for him as a joke, one that Cas likely wouldn't understand at all.

"It is being said that it is possible for a Nephilim to close the gates of hell single-handedly." He began gruffly. Sam leaned on the windowsill and stared at Cas with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. What _would_ happen to him? Would he die- again? And if this Nephilim was even real, how could it really single-handedly take on tons of hellspawn and close the gates for good? Angels didn't even have that kind of power, and humans even less powerful than that. It was nearly impossible, and if Cas was wrong and they went on a hunt for this thing, time would be severely wasted. Time that could be spent figuring out the second and third trials and completing them to close Hell forever.

"There is a problem, though. No Nephilims exist at the moment."

Go figure, thought Sam, shaking his head and retreating to his bedroom with the slam of a door behind him. No Nephilim, no alternative way to close the gates. What was Castiel's point anyway? If there was no Nephilim born yet, they may have to wait years and years for one to be born. He wanted to punch a wall, and then Castiel's face, for giving them false hope.

Outside in the main room, Dean held his head in his hands and tried to wrack his brain for a solution. Castiel didn't just out and say things like that for no reason. Even if the Nephilim wasn't born yet, there had to be something they could do.

"I was going to offer a solution, but it looks like he doesn't want to hear it." Castiel muttered to Dean. He had stopped pacing back and forth and took a seat at the table that Dean was seated at himself. Dean lifted his head briefly to acknowledge the fact that Cas sat down and Sam had locked himself in his room. They were just tired and frustrated, not just with Cas but with everything. It seemed everything was moving too slow, and they were getting absolutely nowhere in this case. Crowley would be after them as soon as he could possibly spare the time out of torturing people, angels and demons alike.

"Nephilim age faster than humans in the first year of their life, but begin aging much slower after that, often living up to a few hundred years. That is, if they aren't killed off by then."

Dean looked up and met Castiel's eyes.

"Killed off? Who would kill them off?"

"Nephilim are considered abominations, looked down upon by most angels and demons alike, because it is against the law to create them. They have a very distinct stench, which makes it easy to track them. They age between 13 to 25 years within the first three months of their lives. It depends on their parentage. After those three months, the process slows slightly, aging about a month within a few weeks. After a year, the process slows tremendously."

Castiel stopped speaking and stared down Dean, waiting for a response. Dean was mulling over everything Castiel had just revealed to him. He didn't understand what part of that was a solution at all. In fact, it was just another roadblock. The conception of a Nephilim was against the Big Guys rulebook. How the hell did Castiel expect to magically find one when all of the other angels were too busy kissing their daddy's ass to bang a few mortal beings?

"Cas, I don't know how you expect to do this. I really don't." Dean let out an exasperated sigh and slid his chair out. It was time for him to lay down again and hopefully get some rest. Cas could bunk on their couch for all he cared, but at this point nothing he was saying was helping anything. He gave them hope and snatched it away, and Dean was just tired.

"The angels have been trying to keep this from everyone- including me, because Nephilim is forbidden. But there are others that would agree with me, others that would possibly agree to, well," He cleared his throat and cocked his head, indicating that he thought Dean would know exactly what he was talking about.

An idea occurred to Dean just as Castiel made eye contact with him. Why didn't _Cas_ just do it? He had the parts, and he _was _still an angel, after all. He had done enough things that were considered forbidden, so why would this be any different? _Besides,_ thought Dean with a smirk on his face, _It wouldn't hurt for Cas to drop the virginal purity bullshit for a day or two._

"Before you say anything, Dean," Cas glared at him as though he had been able to read his mind. For all Dean knew, he _did_ read his mind, and was highly offended by the suggestion that he should go fornicate just for the sake of breaking a few laws. The thought still made Dean chuckle to himself. "You know I would offer myself up for any task that you Winchesters need me to do. But this one… I don't think I would know how to."

"Yea, I remember last time we tried that." Dean thought back fondly to the time he brought Castiel to a brothel to get him laid while Sam was taking a personal vacation away from him and the open road. He hadn't thought about it in a while, but Cas was probably still a virgin. And if they wanted to create a Nephilim, Dean couldn't just let him knock up some poor unsuspecting girl that he paid to have sex with.

"I would like to not have to do that again." Grumbled Cas with a sideways glance at Dean. Dean did nothing more but laugh at him and get up out of his chair, heading for his bedroom. He threw a look over his shoulder at Castiel, who still sat at the table and didn't seem to pay any attention to Dean's empty seat in front of him.

"You can just hang out here, alright? Couch and t.v.- all yours until morning." He made a point of tossing a remote towards Cas only to have it ricochet off of the angels broad shoulders and clatter to the ground, losing its batteries along the way. Dean shook his head and shut his bedroom door.


	4. Dreams

_Angels do not require sleep, or sustenance. Demons did not require these things either. They were ever so human, those requirements. Humans slept between five to eight hours a day, and required four square meals. These things came as just an extra to both angels and demons. Take Meg Masters, for example, when she was alive. As a Demon, she does not need to rest her head every night and allow herself to dream. But she did it anyway. She slept and dreamed and while her dreams were often of hell, she continued sleeping in the hope that she would see the thing she craved the most, the thing that she couldn't quite ever seem to be able to reach._

_Real life, more often than not, finds its way into your dreams, regardless of how much you try to stop it. Meg did not try to stop it. True, she would have hellish dreams, or no dreams at all, but there were very rare moments, moments of pure bliss, where she would catch a glimpse of his face or the flapping of his oversized trenchcoat in the wind. And she would know that he was watching out for her, even in her dreams._

_Now, Castiel, on the other hand, did not need nor did he want to sleep. But this night was different. This night, he did not want to flutter off and find something to do as he normally did when not watching over the Winchesters, which he knew needn't be done, as their stronghold worked well enough for that. Instead, he lay his body down on the couch and stared blankly at the television. It was playing infomercials for items he had no idea why the humans needed anyway. He was thinking about Meg. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence. In fact, he thought about Meg frequently these last three days, and Castiel had no idea why._

_Before he had the time, or sense, to stop himself, Castiel was asleep and drifting in and out of dreamscapes. That had never happened before, and he was surprised how empty and vast his head seemed. All of his good memories of Sam and Dean were there, of course. But everything else was fire, pain, sadness, and destruction._

_He heard a voice through the darkness._

"_Castiel!" It called. _She_ called. It was a female voice, Castiel was sure of that. But why did it sound so awfully familiar?_

"_I swear to God, Clarence. I know you can hear me! You're a freakin' angel! Oh for the love of…"_

_Clarence. There was only one person in the entire universe that knew him by that name. Except she was dead. She had been dead for three days, killed by Crowley himself. Sam and Dean had seen it happen. But there was no mistaking her voice calling out in anger._

_Castiel tried to call back, but it seemed he wasn't allowed to communicate in his dreams. All he could do was wait for her to call out again and try to follow her voice._

"_This was so much easier when I was a damned demon." A picture was slowly beginning to form in front of dream-Castiel's eyes. "Castiel! Clarence! You stupid little tree-topper, I need a friggin' ride here!"_

_A smile forced it's way to Castiels face. It _was_ Meg. Only Meg would talk to him like that. But, again, he thought, she was _dead_. Blasted away. The Winchester may be able to live forever because God keeps giving them second and third and twentieth chances, but Castiel knew that his father would never, _ever_ bring back a demon in the form of her human vessel._

_Yet there she was, standing in a dark alley way. It had been raining wherever she was, because her hair was soaked straight and clinging to her face. She was shivering, and if Cas didn't know any better, he would have said that she was crying. Dirt and grime held on fast to both her skin and her clothes. She looked like, well, hell._

_The most curious thing, however, was that she looked normal. There was no demon face under her vessels mask. There was just human flesh, a human face. Castiel tried to rationalize this as just a dream, but Angels do not dream. Not like this. They relive memories, and they have visions._

_This was not a memory. That only left one option._

_Castiels throat tightened and released, and soon he realized he could finally speak._

"_Castiel!" Meg called one more time just before the invisible dream-Cas replied,_

"_Meg?"_


	5. Chapter 4

"I had a dream about Meg last night."

The three of them had sat down that morning, all tired and still in their night close, save for Castiel who never seemed to have the need to change out of his suit and trenchcoat. Dean didn't look up from the paper, but Sam acknowledged Castiel with just a glance.

"Angels don't sleep. How were you dreaming?" He asked with a mouth full of food.

Castiel looked over at him and knew that he wasn't completely forgiven for springing a pile of huge information on them that last night. He nodded in Sams direction but turned to address Dean. Dean chugged a mug of coffee (black, as he always took it, Cas knew) and stared blankly back at him.

"We don't." Cas began slowly. He was wracking his brain for a way to explain to his friends why he was asleep in the first place, but he couldn't think of a reason at all. And he couldn't just lie to them. The Winchesters were liars for a living. You can't lie to a liar. "But I was… bored."

"Bored? You were _bored?_" Dean let out a chuckle and shook his head. Sometimes Cas was too strange for him. Of all the books they had in every nook and cranny in their stronghold, and Castiel said he was _bored_.

Sam took his brothers tone of voice as his cue, his turn to start speaking. He cleared his throat and took a swig of water before turning to look at the trenchcoated man.

"So, what was your dream about anyway?"

"I heard her voice. She was calling out to me." He paused momentarily and looked over at Dean. "When you pray to me, it manifested the same way. But she did not sound like she was praying. She was shouting, like she was angry or upset with me, but I don't… I don't remember doing anything. I didn't anger her before she died, did I?"

Dean looked at Sam, who was now staring at his hands on the table below him. He sighed inwardly.

"We _did_ leave her to die." He muttered under his breath before getting up to grab his first beer of the day. Dean had been drinking more than normal, though not enough to keep him drunk all day. It calmed his nerves, and recently, those had been acting erratically too.

"I did not mean to. If I had known…" Castiel stopped and shook his head to himself, taking in a sharp breath. Deans face contorted with confusion. He had known that Meg must have had some kind of feelings for Castiel. After all, Sam had told him about the little "unicorn" incident. But Castiel, the virginal angel with disregard for most human emotions, having any sort of romantic feelings for a demon? That was probably the greatest sin Castiel would ever commit. You know, besides playing God and letting out all of those Leviathans, of course.

"If I had known," continued Cas with his head down. "I would have hidden her, too. I would have kept her safe." His head suddenly shot up, and his blue eyes burnt into Dean's skull. A chill ran down Dean's spine. He shifted in his seat and tried to keep his eyes level with Cas.

"Why didn't _you_ protect her?"

"What?!" Cas's accusatory glare had made Dean uncomfortable, but asking him to protect _Meg_ of all people? That just made Dean angry. "Risking my own skin to save a fucking _demon_ from right under Crowley's nose? No offence, Cas, but that ain't exactly in my job description!"

"She wasn't just a demon!"

Both Dean and Cas couldn't help but turn their heads to stare at Sam. An outburst from him was generally considered normal. But Sam defending Meg? At one point in their life, Meg had tried to kill John Winchester, their father. She had even possessed Sam, and while in his body she tried to kill both Dean and Jo, a friend of theirs that eventually came to save their lives by sacrificing hers. Meg, who killed a fellow hunter. Meg, who probably sold them out on numerous occasion.

"Sammy, are you forgetting everything that bitch has done to us?" Dean snapped back at him.

"Are you forgetting everything that…_bitch_ has done _for_ us?" Sam was nearly foaming at the mouth, and he had a good amount of spittle spewing from his mouth as he emphasized the word "_bitch_".

A hard point to argue. Although, Sam could also say that Crowley did a lot for them too, what with giving them a vial of his blood to stop Dick Roman, the Colt, and helping them find Death, the Horseman. That didn't make him any less of an asshole, though, Dean thought.

"Do not call her a bitch. She doesn't deserve that." Castiel said softly, more to himself than anything. Dean heaved a sigh and leaned backwards in his chair. This conversation was upsetting Cas, and the last thing that they needed was an angel preforming a disappearing act.

"Fine. We're sorry, Cas." Dean said in a huff. He was still curious as to why the hell Castiel was even dreaming about Meg in the first place. Even if angels slept, surely they couldn't dream.

"Meg said something else, something very strange, in my vision." Castiel continued. He shifted his gaze towards the ceiling. "'This was so much easier when I was a damned demon.' And then she called me Clarence. And asked me for a ride."

"A ride. A _ride?"_ Dean opened his mouth to ask Castiel what she could have meant, but Sam interrupted him with quick words.

"Hold on a second, she said 'when she was a demon', as if…" He furrowed his brow and looked at Dean. Dean shrugged and sipped his beer quietly, waiting for Sam to do whatever it is Sam did inside of his head when he was trying to figure things out.

What Sam had pointed out got Dean to start thinking as well. If this was in fact a vision other than an ordinary dream, was it at all possible that someone had brought Meg back as a human? Or worse, an angel? If she had been an angel, it shouldn't have been hard for her to communicate with Castiel, so that narrowed down that possibility fairly fast.

"Castiel, is there _any_ way at all for it to be possibly for Meg to still be alive?" Sam asked the same question Dean had been ready to ask, and frankly it was getting on his nerves that _now_ Sam chooses not to shut up. _Always picking the wrong time for everything. Go figure._ He thought to himself

Castiel shook his head. "I don't believe so. My father would never bring a demon back to life, and Crowley was the one that killed her. I don't know anyone else with that kind of power."

There was pain in his voice, as if he had possibly already put a word in with the Almighty about Meg, but got nothing but a gust of wind in return. Sam couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for him. He had lost so much, Sam Winchester had. His mother, father, Bobby, Jess, Madison, Amelia, and Dean, on multiple occasions (Though he came back. Somehow, he always came back). Castiel left heaven and became part of the Winchester family instead, so he had just about as much as Sam did. Meg was something- some_one_- special to him. Of course he would be hurt.

"Then that's all it was. A dream." Dean chuckled, but no one else followed. Sam and Cas stared at him as though he had said something absolutely confusing and absurd. "What?"

"We can't just act like this doesn't mean something, Dean." Sam said in a low voice. Cas nodded in agreement.

"I would not have seen it if-"

"If _what_, Castiel?" There wasn't anything they could do, especially with what little information they had. So what, Cas had dreamed of a lost love. Everyone did that once in a while. Hell, Dean himself still saw Lisa and Ben in his dreams (Although you would never hear him admit that out loud. And give Sam another thing to blackmail him with? No way.) "If your dad deemed it unimportant? Newsflash- none of us really has any idea what the hell the Big Guy is doing up there anymore, and I'm sorry, but I'm not going to go look for a chick that may or may not be dead because angelboy here had a crush on her."

Silence consumed all three of them, and suddenly Castiel was gone. He couldn't zap himself in there, but he sure as hell could zap himself out. Dean still couldn't get used to how sensitive Castiel had become. It had been immensely worse when his brain was fried, but he still felt as though part of the sensitivity hadn't gone away. Especially regarding Meg, it seemed.

"I think you-"

"Upset him. Yeah, Sammy, I know…"

* * *

Three more days passed, although they weren't as uneventful as the last three. The Winchester boys had picked up a case; just your standard haunting, nothing demonic or terribly harmful, something that some salt and a little kerosene could fix in less than five minutes.

And then a week went by. Still no word from Castiel, who Dean could only assume went on a worldwide search for his missing girlfriend. They had given up calling him. If he wanted to come, he would come. If not, they would have to just keep going on without him. They did it before, they could do it again.

Another week. And then another, until an entire month had passed since they had seen Castiel. They had worked a few jobs, went on a few trips, but always came back to their real home, the 'Men of Letters' bunker. They had made it entirely theirs. Their décor, their food, their weapons and research documents (Although all the information they could have possibly needed was stored in the bunker already, before they had taken to living there). Sam still thought of Bobby's, or perhaps Rufus's cabin, as their 'real' home, but Dean loved it in the stronghold, and so Sam didn't mess with his happiness

"Hello Dean."

"Jesus Christ, Cas!"

Dean almost slipped and fell in the shower as he heard Castiel's voice, and saw the man's shadow outside of the shower curtain. He groped for a towel, only to have one handed to him by the angel with the lack of knowledge about personal space.

"You could have called. You do _not_ just pop up on me when I'm naked."

Castiel made a point of averting his eyes while Dean clambered out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. After having the Enochian sigils carved into their ribs, it had been virtually impossible for Castiel to "zap" to them without first being told where they were. Unfortunately, once he knew where they were, he could pop in at any time. Which is often exactly what he did.

Though that still didn't explain, Dean thought, how he had simply shown up at their doorstep. They told him in their prayers where they were, of course, but why walk around in the rain?

"I am sorry. But there is something you must see."

Castiel stepped out of the bathroom (Much to Sam's surprise) and waited for Dean to finish dressing himself. Sam acknowledged Cas with a sideways nod, and Cas nodded back a silent 'hello, Sam.' Dean exited the bathroom and threw a dirty look at Castiel for walking in on him in the shower.

Dean had started to sit down but Castiel grabbed his shoulder and shook his head.

"No. She's outside."

"_She?"_

Sam stood up as well, also very boggled as to what Castiel was insisting that they see. Cas led them both to the front door. Before he wrenched it open, he turned around and held up a hand for them to listen.

"Do not try to harm her. I have conducted your tests. She is safe."

Taking in a deep breath, Castiel opened the front door only to leave the Winchester boys completely floored.

"Been keeping busy, boys?"


	6. Poetry and Hotdogs

_In the month that Castiel had disappeared, he had of course been searching. Not just for Meg. There were, regrettably, more important matters to attend to. The Nephilim, for one thing. There was still that issue, and if he really wanted to make nice with Sam and Dean, he would happily hunt one down and bring it to them, as a peace offering._

_He wasn't in contact with any of the angels, and of course, asking them about a Nephilim (and where to find one) would be a dangerous mistake on his part. It would raise suspicion, and that was the last thing he needed. Naomi was possibly still on his ass, and with him hiding the angel tablet, there wasn't anything she wouldn't do to find the location._

_So he flew, as angels did. He flew and searched for this legendary being in hopes that it would somehow save the youngest Winchester brother, Sam. The one whose life he saved by taking on a broken soul. Not that he minded. In fact, he thought back fondly to his time in the ward with Meg. Meg had been his guardian angel when he needed it the most._

_And he never properly thanked her for that, something he had come to greatly regret._

_There was a time, somewhere between reuniting with the Winchesters and losing his marbles, that Castiel had come to appreciate that strange little demon. He could see past that pretty face on her meatsuit to see her true form, but that didn't bother him. He could also see something that he didn't tell anyone else; her kindness. It wasn't the kind of kindness a demon gives, of course. Not the manipulative, conniving kind of kindness. No, it was genuine, and Castiel could see that. And for that, he was grateful._

_He had taken to reciting poetry. Nothing he read, of course. Reading could, theoretically, kill him. No, it was silly ditties he made up himself while he was watching the bees in the rosebushes._

"'_Something so beautiful has the potential to hurt so much, and yet we still go back for more.'" He stammered out one day as he was collecting honey, and sliced his finger open on one of the rosebush thorns. Meg was sitting in a chair, reading one of her gossip magazines. She peered over it and smirked._

"'_s that for me, birdboy?" She had asked jokingly, only to be shocked by his response._

"_Of course. You wear the most painful kind of beauty. The most beautiful, too."_

_She laughed at him. Not a mean laugh, but the laugh that someone laughs when they're in an uncomfortable situation and don't know how to wiggle themselves out of it just yet._

"_I don't like poetry." She said. Her eyes moved back to her magazine, and Castiel eyed her for a minute. Yes, she is beautiful, he thought to himself. Back to the bees he was, and in that moment he realized just how lucky he was to have been saved by her._

_Castiel smiled at these good memories. He was glad to have them. It gave him something to think about other than "Doctor Sexy, M.D" and "Casa Erotica", two of the most played things in the Winchester household._

_Castiel also couldn't stop himself from thinking back to their first (And only) kiss, what he had come to call the "Pizza Man." He hadn't been lying when he told her it was a good memory. It was as good as they came. But it also left him with a strange feeling; one that he hadn't known existed until that day. It was a kind of painful lusting after Meg, both physically and emotionally. This was a sin, and hadn't he sinned enough?_

_But his dream, his vision. It had shown Meg as what, a human? Another angel? Something else entirely? Castiel couldn't figure it out, but something about her was so wrong, more wrong than when she was a demon. She just seemed like a not-natural being, something that wasn't supposed to be. Yet Cas couldn't get it out of his head that he had to find her, to give her a "ride", whatever that was._

_It took an entire month to find her. He scoured the earth, looked in every dirty alleyway in every city in every state, only to find her eating a street-vendor hotdog (Complete with a large serving of mustard) in none other than Lebanon, Kansas, a street away from the Men of Letters bunker._

_She turned around to see Castiel standing uncomfortably close to her, almost nose to nose. This didn't surprise her, it seemed, as she just gave him a smirk and crossed her arms, still holding a half-eaten hotdog._

"_Took you long enough, wingboy." She snorted out sarcastically. _

"_Why did you pray for me?" Castiel asked. What a proper introduction it was, although neither of them seemed to be surprised to find each other alive and well. It was as if they had been expecting it._

"_What, no 'hello, how are you, Meg I missed you so much kiss me please'?" Meg stressed the word please and batted her eyes. Castiel knew she was just teasing him but it made his vessel flush pink around the cheeks. "Besides, demons don't pray…"_

_Castiel noticed the way that she shifted uncomfortably when it came to the word 'demon'. _

"_But you aren't a demon anymore. You said so yourself."_

"_We'll get to that. In the meantime, Clarence, take me to where Rocky and Bullwinkle are holed up, okay?" She tilted her head and smiled at him, a smile filled with nothing but sass and Castiel knew it was really her. Her meatsuit was still the same, minus the ugly face that demons wore under their masks. Though even then, Castiel still found her beautiful._

"_Why?"_

"_I might be human but I can still kick your feathery ass." She grumbled, but rolled her eyes and answered his question. "I know you didn't bring me back out of the love of your heart, so the Hardy Boys are my next best guess. Whatdya say, Clarence?"_

_Agreeing reluctantly (as he wanted answers just as much as she did, it seemed), Castiel put a hand on her shoulder and began to lead her to the home of the Winchesters._


	7. Chapter 5

"Been keeping busy, boys?"

Sam's head was spinning as he set his eyes upon the very familiar Miss Meg Masters, the 'friendliest' and damned hard to get rid of demon.

Except, she was dead. He watched, with Dean, as Crowley sliced her open with the demon blade, the only knife that could kill a demon. They watched her die. How was she now standing in front of them, clear of blood, still in her usual attire, with her hands on her hips?

"M-m-meg?" He stuttered, trying to step forward only to have himself stopped by Dean grabbing his shoulder.

"Don't hurt yourself there, Bullwinkle." Meg stepped into their home with the sway of her hips and surveyed her surroundings. She was eyeing for an escape, but there didn't seem to be one within running distance. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she shivered. No escape. If something bad went down, she would have to find her way to the front door, and this place was _huge_. Her best bet was to stay by the door at all times.

Dean stared her down with narrowed eyes. This was entirely unnatural. He knew he was being a little hypocritical, seeing as he and Sam had been brought back from the dead on numerous occasions, even visiting heaven itself once (Or perhaps a few times more than just once, according to Ash). Angels had brought them back. That and a few bad crossroads deals, of course. But what would bring a demon back as a human? Certainly not God, as Castiel had already told them. No way in hell Crowley would let her come back, and even if he did, he wouldn't let her come back as human. Of all things, a _human Meg? _It just seemed unnatural.

"That's just fan-freaking-tastic, Dean-o." Meg no longer looked pleased to see them (Not that she looked pleased to begin with, but still wore a smile), but now scowled in the Winchesters general direction and threw a look to Castiel. Dean looked genuinely concerned to see her, and Sam looked just as surprised. It couldn't have been them, either. "I take it none of you know how I got myself back into this pretty little body with not so much as a scratch on me, do you?"

The men looked at one another. No, it was very clear none of them knew what she was doing here, in that same body, much more human than she had been before. Dean could have easily blamed Castiel, or perhaps Sam, since he all of a sudden seemed so chummy with the demon girl. Castiel was the most likely candidate, though. He dreamed about her, and somehow managed to get her back here. He was also the only one with anything to gain from bringing her back.

"So you… you don't remember anything?" Sam asked, leaning on a table.

"Sure, I remember lots of things." Meg knew exactly what Sam meant, but she rolled her eyes and pulled up a chair, mounting it backward and placing her chin on her fist. "I remember being inside of that body of yours, Slendy." She looked over to Dean with a smirk on her face. "And I remember siccing my puppies on you and your little friends." Dean began to step forward, but Castiel held him back. Meg sighed and shook her head. "Which, I guess, I'm sorry about. And you, Clarence," She turned to address the angel, who stood with a shoulder to her and his arm wrapped around Dean's torso to stop him from attacking human Meg.

"I remember _everything_ about you." She winked at him, leaving him confused still, and jerked her head in Sam's direction. "Any booze in this joint? Never been drunk as a human. Not yet, at least. I hear it's all sandcastles and ninjas."

Sam nodded and walked off to get Meg a beer from their fridge. If she could hold it all down, he'd really test her with hard liquor (The ones that weren't Deans, anyway). Castiel could hold her hair when she tossed her cookies. Besides, and Dean would agree with him, drunk interrogation was the best kind of interrogation.

"Smartass. He meant do you remember-"

"Being saved, yeah, no. Got that, thanks." Meg interrupted Dean and sarcastically spat out a retort. "If I remembered anything at all, do you think I would be here with you two dorks and your pet angel?" Castiel narrowed his eyes and looked at her again, but she didn't notice. "I remember Crowley ganking my ass, and then I remember waking up in some alleyway totally and completely… human. It's disgusting." Meg looked down at her body and made a face. "So many… emotions and feelings and the need to eat. No wonder you boys are always two steps behind." She smirked at Dean, who only shook his head at her and grabbed a beer out of Sams hand, who had returned with booze for all.

"So," Meg began, as no one else spoke for a few seconds. The silence made her uncomfortable. She took a swig from her beer and looked around again. "What is this place, anyway? Your 'Batcave'?"

Sam, after sitting himself down and popping open his own bottle, quickly looked at Dean, who was trying hard not to smile at Meg. She was a bitch, but she was still one of them, when it all came down to it. Dean often called their bunker the Batcave, but had never heard anyone else refer to it as that. Point one, team Meg.

"It's our home. You know, a real home." Dean said as he followed her gaze. He pretended not to notice she continued to look at the door.

"Huh." Meg nodded her approval and then looked at Castiel, lifting her drink to acknowledge him. "And what about you, Clarence? Got your own room and everything, too?"

Castiel lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck as he looked away. Of course Meg knew that Castiel wasn't living here with the Winchesters. She may not be a demon anymore, but she knew the three of them well enough to see that Dean was pissed off at Cas more than he would let on. Usually the two looked at each other much more than that, but now they were avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"You boys have a fight or something?" She asked, looking from Dean to Cas. Sam couldn't help but try and hide the smile that inevitably found its way to his face. Dean only rolled his eyes and looked over at Cas out of the corner of his eyes. Cas didn't return the gaze, but instead forced himself to look everywhere _but_ the other three people in the room.

"Sorry, Batman. Birdboy here is all mine now, isn't that right Castiel?" It was difficult for Castiel to keep himself from blushing. It seemed his vessel didn't always obey his commands and the angels' emotion shone through to the surface. Meg smiled at him. She loved making him uncomfortable. Her favorite pastime, actually.

"Alright so," Sam said as he cleared his throat and stood up. A fight was soon to erupt, likely stemming from Dean and directed at the always cool, calm, and collected Meg. "Who's up for a game of Monopoly?"

Meg shrugged her shoulders, and the phrase "game of Monopoly" seemed to absolutely boggle Castiel's mind, but Dean turned to stare at his brother.

"You're kidding, right? At what point did we decide we have time for fun?" He asked. Sam threw him a smug grin as he walked away. He returned a few moments later with Monopoly in his hands.

"This point."

It would have been pointless to try and talk Sam out of it, and the other two in the room seemed keen on the idea to waste their time playing a board game instead of trying to do the three things they _should_ have been wasting their time on; uncovering the second trial, finding a Nephilim, and figuring out where the hell Meg came from all of a sudden.

Dean did, however, upon beginning the game, try to argue 'oldest' for first turn, but Meg agreed that she and Castiel trumped him, them both being at the very least a few hundred years old.

Sometimes it was hard having an angel for a best friend

* * *

"Dean, I must speak with you. Urgently."

The way Castiel spoke the word "urgently" made Dean's skin crawl. Great, he thought to himself. What did he do _this_ time. Castiel seemed to always be getting himself into trouble, or talking about things that didn't make a lick of sense to either of the Winchester brothers. For all Dean knew, he was going to mention that, in the month he had been gone, he found a Nephilim and 'didn't deem it as important as delivering Meg'. Or perhaps something just as likely to piss Dean off.

Dean excused himself, and Cas, from the room, leaving Meg and Sam to the game of monopoly they had been playing. Meg was kicking their asses, and this time they couldn't call her out on cheating with some demon-like power, if that even applied to the rules of Monopoly, which Sam insisted didn't. They walked into another room, and Castiel closed the door quietly with a concerned look on his face.

"What?" Dean asked with a crinkled brow. It wasn't like Cas to want to have secret conversations. He hated when others had them, anyway. And Dean didn't think he liked to hide things from Meg. The two had been extremely close at the time of her death. Why would it be any different now that she was back, and human?

Castiel threw a glance towards the door. He was becoming extremely fidgety and very aware of his hands all of a sudden. Had they always been that size?

"I need your help. I would like to…" Castiel stammered and stumbled all over his sentence before composing himself enough to finish. "…get to know Meg better."

Dean stared at him for a moment before starting to chuckle and clapping a hand on Castiel's shoulder. Of course. It wasn't much of a surprise to anyone the way those to idiots felt about each other, but Meg was too proud to make the first move, and Castiel, too timid, aside from the fact he had absolutely no idea what to do. Dean was somewhat happy he went to him instead of Sam, though, who would look to Sam for dating advice?

"Dude. You know her the best out of all of us."

"You don't understand." Castiel grumbled seriously, cocking his head and looking at Dean. "She's a _human_ now, Dean. Do you know what that means?"

"Absolutely!" Dean smiled and rolled his eyes for a few seconds. His face then changed to a frown and he shook his head. "No, no idea. Enlighten me, wise man."

Castiel scoffed lightly. Dean, with the sarcasm. Always with the sarcasm. Cas wanted to ask him to be serious for just five minutes, but thought he'd likely get yelled at, something he didn't enjoy. Castiel had known since the night of the "Pizza Man" that he had strange feelings for Meg, but of course, as an angel, he didn't know how to act upon them. And when Meg herself suggested the two of them have sex, it only scared Cas. She was a demon back then, after all. It was a sin.

Now Meg was a human. What was it that the Winchesters needed the most at that very moment? A way to close the gates of hell forever. What was the one option they had to make that possible? A Nephilim. What was a Nephilim? The child of an _angel and a human._

Now, it would seem, their lives somewhat depended on the union of Castiel and Meg.

"Sex should only be had between two beings that love one another." Castiel began, though he knew that first sentence would be lost on Dean. He knew Dean had sex with women he didn't love, or even know what their names were. "If I get to know Meg, there is a possibility of that happening. We have a chance at creating a Nephilim."

Dean didn't speak. He just stared at Castiel, waiting for him to start laughing and tell him it was some cruel, stupid joke. That moment never came, and when it became clear to him that Castiel was completely serious about this, he almost punched him in the jaw.

"That isn't happening."

"But I thought-"

"Thought I wanted the Nephilim to close the gates of hell?" Dean gave a sigh and threw his hands up in the air. "Yea, I do. And don't get me wrong, I have no problem with the little 'Megstiel' thing you two have going on, but there is no way in _hell_ I'm using a Nephilim that _she_ gave birth to. It's all sorts of wrong."

The look on Castiels face told Dean that he as definitely not too keen on the idea himself, but it was near impossible to know if another angel was doing the horizontal mambo with a human at any point in time. Cas was right, and Dean didn't have any other choice than to admit it. He wouldn't like it, but yes, he would help him court Meg the human.

"Alright, fine. Here's what you need to do…"


	8. Fine

_Castiel had spent every waking hour (Which, for him, was every hour of every day, although Dean had mentioned once more that he needed at least four hours of sleep, a time which Cas used to review the notes he had taken inside of his head) with Dean, watching his interactions with women, how to court them, take them on dates and a few times, though not to Deans knowledge, how to mate. Castiel was well aware how the process went in humans, but he wasn't aware of the many ways to do things. He had once thought of human sex repetitious and, well, boring. After countless days of invisibly studying Dean having intercourse with women of all different kinds, he became aware that this was incorrect. In fact, human sex was everything _but_ repetitious and boring._

_Cas couldn't help but view the act as somewhat fun, enjoyable. Not that he was looking forward to preforming it himself, of course. That still made him incredibly nervous._

_Dean still corrected him on some things, even after hours of reviewing his personal notes. For instance, Castiel wasn't aware that it was not attractive to the opposite sex when one used the words "fornicate", "intercourse", and "research" in the same sentences. It was also considered "weird" to tell a woman, while on a date, about the love you once had for bees. This was especially odd when one was in the body of a thirty year old man._

_He did indeed go out for 'test runs', as he called them, with women that Dean picked out. None of them were like Meg. They were the type of women Dean would like to date, not Cas. Although Cas had never thought about the kinds of women that he would like to date. All he knew is that he would like to date Meg._

_Dean had informed him that if he wanted to go out on a date, or dates, he would have to wear the proper attire. Castiel argued against that. He liked his trenchcoat, and frankly didn't care what he looked like. Cas had never given a second thought to his appearance, unless he was dirty (in which case he could clean up in a matter of minutes). But physical attractiveness? It had only been brought to his attention once before, and that, of course, was from Meg._

_Sometimes, while Dean was passed out curled up in a chair, and Meg was asleep on the couch, Castiel couldn't help but think that all of this studying, this research, these stupid notes he had come to memorize in his head, it was all pointless. Meg had liked him before, it seemed, when he was just some clueless angel patching up her wounds. Why should he listen to Dean, who did nothing more than date women, sleep with them, and then move on? Castiel didn't want to just move on._

_Meg, in the meantime, had noticed subtle changes in Castiel. He had seemed a little more suave the last time that she saw him, at least, that's how she had remembered him. He now acted awkward and out of place around her. It even started making her uncomfortable as well. Cas was never like this before, she thought. Maybe something changed in the last month. Maybe he was crazytown. Again._

_No, that couldn't be it. Last time his eggs got scrambled, he was all bees and thorny beauty and blah blah blah. He seemed like he wanted to be around her _more_ when his head was all kinds of messed up. But now, he was spending more time alone with Dean than he had before. Meg could only assume what they were doing, and it made her feel weird, and definitely not a good weird._

_Still getting used to her human emotions, Meg often didn't know what to do with herself. It was hard for her to keep it all in check. She missed not feeling much except some anger, hate, and a itty bitty bit of that emotion humans call "love". She had been horny, too, but that didn't really count as an emotion. Demons were horndogs. Hell, just look at Crowley. He would fuck anything, pulse or no pulse._

_Now it was all "sad, tired, hungry, happy, depressed, pissed off, bleh, sick". These were all too confusing to her, and she spent days at a time holed up in the room that the Winchesters had sectioned off for her. This whole "being human" gig was harder than they made it look._

_The day finally came when Castiel was ready to ask Meg out on a real human date. It hadn't even occurred to her that "dates" were possible now that she didn't have hellspawn breathing down her neck._

"_Meg, I think," Castiel began one night as he sat and watched Meg read one of her gossip magazines. Even as a human, she still found those crappy things enjoyable. "I think it would be…._nice_… if we could go have breakfast together. Tomorrow."_

"_Angels don't eat, Clarence."_

"_But I like waffles."_

"'_snice."_

_Really, it was hard to communicate with her at all when she was occupied, but when she wasn't she wouldn't shut her mouth. Sam and Dean had gotten into their old habit of synonymously saying "shut up Meg" on more than one occasion._

"_Would you put that down?" Castiel grabbed it out of her hands and sat it next to him. Meg didn't look very pleased with him, and she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes._

"_You have my full attention now, Pizza Man. Explain to me exactly why you think it would be enjoyable to go out to eat when you don't even need to eat in the first place?" She made that face, the one that means she thinks she has you all figured out but is also worried that she got one particular point wrong that could possibly ruin her. In which case, she would be partially right._

"_It's a date. It's something humans do when courting a mate." Castiel muttered, not breaking eye contact._

_Meg laughed at him, throwing her head back and letting her blonde waves fall into her eyes. She didn't bother brushing her hair out of her face with her fingers._

"_I'm not as clueless as you. I know what a date is. The question is, why would you want to "court" me?"_

"_Because you owe me pizza."_

_Castiel didn't blink, didn't even crack a smile. The seriousness in his tone and in the look on his face burnt Meg to the core, straight down to her bones. It was true, she did promise that if she survived that Crowley bust that she would order some pizza and the two of them could, well, 'move some furniture'. They both knew that meant sex._

_Sighing, Meg leaned forwards in her chair and got in Castiel's face, trying to get him to flinch. He didn't even bat an eyelash._

"_Fine. You know what? We can go on your little date. That way I can _really_ prove to you the thousands of reasons why this was a bad idea."_

"_Fine."_


	9. Chapter 6

((**AN: Thank you all for reading. I suppose I should have warned everyone how long this would be. It isn't your typical one-shot or 3-chaptered fanfiction. This is an actual story. There will be at least 10 more chapters, I think. I will be putting out a much shorter fanfiction titled "Where the Wild Things Are", a short story of Castiel's time in the Ward with Nurse Meg, if you're interested. I might also be writing a story about Marin, and her life after Sam left the Ward. I do take requests for stories. I actually really enjoy when people give me prompts, so just review or message me if you'd like!))**

Sam had helped Castiel pick out a nice café just up the street from them for his first date with Meg. It was so very Sam, and Cas silently hoped that Meg would enjoy herself. She didn't seem the café type to him. Dean had a nice talk with Meg while Sam coaxed Castiel out of his usual suit and flashercoat and into more casual wear. He was afraid is brother would turn the fashion-challenged angel into a pseudo-hipster, but didn't say anything

"This is Cas's first date, so don't be too... well, _you_ on him." Dean leaned on the closed door with his arms crossed against his chest. Meg hadn't even bothered to get out of bed. She was still laying down, with headphones around her neck and her music volume up fairly loud, enough to listen to it as well as listen to whatever Dean was saying.

"Your boyfriend is fragile. Got it." She replied absentmindedly. Meg didn't bother telling Dean that his words were completely wasted on her. He would figure it out eventually.

"Meg, I'm serious." The Winchester began to raise his voice angrily. Nothing anyone said was ever taken seriously by Meg, and it pissed him off. It was always a game for her.

"Cas and I could have figured this shit out on our own." Heaving out a sigh, Meg sat up and tossed her headphones back onto her pillow. Her hair was still blonde, but her natural brown was beginning to show through her roots. "Wingboy out there might be completely dependent on you, but you should know by now that I can take care of myself, thanks."

Dean had enough of her mouth. He just wanted Cas to be safe and happy. He knew Meg well enough to know that she could be a huge bitch, and pissing Cas off was never a good idea. Both of the Winchesters, or anyone Castiel had ever encountered, knew that first hand.

He left the room in a huff, letting the door slam behind him, only to be faced with another problem; Sam had managed to make Castiel look like a huge dork.

"He, uh… picked out the clothes himself. I just showed him how to put them on correctly." Sam looked defeated and smiled sympathetically at Dean, who just stared at Castiel in awe.

The angel looked ridiculously proud of himself, even under the Winchesters judging stares. He was wearing four layers of shirts; a white button down dress shirt that was two sizes too big for him, two neon colored polo shirts on top, and finished off with a dark blue ultra-V neck t-shirt.

To make it worse, he wasn't wearing pants, but shorts. Denim shorts.

And knee-high socks, complete with croc shoes.

"Sam he's wearing crocs." Dean said with as straight a face as he could possibly manage. Sam smirked and looked down at Castiel's feet, nodding.

"Yep. Picked them out himself and everything."

Castiel looked down at himself. In his mind, he looked absolutely fine. The attire he had chosen for this event, breakfast at a café, seemed entire appropriate. He had watched movies, and learned layering from the Winchesters themselves.

The shoes, he just liked the way they looked.

"Are you ready yet, Clarence? Gotta get this show on the road. I don't have time to waste now that I'm-" Meg, hardly dressed up at all, opened her door and the three men turned their heads to look at her. She was only focused on the angel with a lack of fashion sense. "…human."

Meg pointed a finger at Sam accusingly.

"Did _you_ do this to him?"

Sam held up his hands in defense and backed away from Castiel. He was still stifling laughter, and now Dean was beginning to snort as he tried to hold himself back. Meg rolled her eyes and walked towards Cas. She didn't look sympathetic, nor did she look angry. Just annoyed.

"Take this crapload off and grab your suit." She sighed as she grabbed his shoulders and turned him around in the direction of Sam's room. "I'll take you shopping later. For now, stick with what you know."

* * *

The café down the road from the Men of Letters bunker was called "Brewed Awakening", a name that Castiel found clever and Meg made fun of the whole way there. Dean had suggested they walk instead of zapping, and made a point to tell Cas about the complications zapping could have on a human, and who knew what would happen to a demon-made-human during transport.

The two of them took a seat in the tiny, well-lit café. Everything there seemed just as tiny as the shop was itself. The chairs, the tables, even the thousands of tiny lights hanging from the ceiling. Meg scoffed as she pulled up a chair near the very back. Cas had wanted to sit by the window but she didn't appear to hear him, sauntering all the way to a corner table.

Everything was so tremendously white and clean in the shop. And also very made of plastic. It seemed cheap to Meg but she did enjoy the smells that came from behind the counter. "Brewed Awakening" was more than just a coffee and breakfast hole-in-the-wall. They served gelato too, as well as just about every kind of crepe you could imagine.

After Meg had returned from ordering for both of them (Cas was incapable of doing so without making everything way more complicated than it needed to be), Castiel turned to her and looked at her very seriously.

"What were you before?"

"A demon, Clarence. You of all things should remember that."

"Before that."

"Oh." Meg hadn't thought about that in a long, long time. She hardly even remembered anymore. She knew she had been human once before, that part was true. But what had her name been? Did she have any siblings? How did she die? What era had she even been born in?

"Don't remember. Not even that important, I would assume. Besides, I liked being a demon. It was all fun, all the time. Nothing like being an angel." She chuckled to herself and rested her head on the back of the wall behind her. Castiel didn't stop staring at her. Meg opened an eye and glared at him.

Their food had arrived and they didn't speak as they ate. Castiel did indeed enjoy waffles, to Meg's amusement. She didn't like much that didn't have meat in it, so it was a pleasant surprise when she enjoyed her savory crepe. Castiel smiled at her as she ate. Not much about her had changed, except

"You smell different, you know. And you look different. I can't see your face." The neighboring customer glanced over at him with a concerned look, causing Meg to giggle under her breath, but they returned to their plate soon enough.

"Perks of being a human, I guess. No more monster face under this pretty pale skin. I'm sure it's a whole big breath of fresh air for you too, huh, Clarence?" She pushed her plate aside gently and leaned in closer to him. Castiel didn't stop chewing his food, but looked at her with his eyes narrowed.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Now you get to enjoy my face without seeing the demons underneath. I'm still me, Castiel. Meg 2.0. The demon that tried to kill the Winchesters, the demon that killed that blonde girl and her mother." Castiel almost thought he heard a bit of regret in her voice, but she hid it well under that sassy smirk she almost always wore.

"But without my big, black eyes, you would never be able to tell how many people I've killed. Now all you see is this squishy human body I'm now stuck in. Doesn't that scare you?"

It was as though she was _trying_ to scare him, to intimidate him. It was something that she was so used to accomplishing. Castiel didn't flinch, and that pissed her off. _He is so zen sometimes_, Meg thought. _It's like he can go from cool to crazy to violent in all of.5 seconds._

That was something she found strangely attractive.

"Why would it scare me?" Castiel said absentmindedly. He had begun on his third waffle, and fourth cup of coffee. For a celestial being that never needed to eat, he sure did eat a lot.

Meg didn't care to answer his question. Of course it should scare him. Now it was possible for him to believe she was just a normal person, not someone who had once attacked him and his friends, and at one point tried to kill his friend's father. She was just a human. It sure as hell scared her, not that she would ever let him hear that.

"Remember that time you used me as a ladder to escape a ring of holy fire?"

They both looked up from their plates at the same time. Neither of them were smiling, and Cas had even stopped chewing his mouthful of food. There was silence for a moment before Meg snorted and let out a loud chortle of laughter. She was followed by Castiel who managed to utter a few chuckles, but a genuine smile.

"I don't understand why that's funny, but your laugh makes me smile."

"Haven't I already told you this, Clarence? I don't like poetry." This only made her smile wider. Like a domino effect, so did Castiel.

He thought about the time he _had_ done that, and yes, he did remember. He remembered every moment he spent with demon Meg, the one he had gotten to know very little and yet enjoyed being around so much. Their bond had grown in the hospital, where she had taken up duty as his guardian while he lay there plagued by Lucifer taunting him every moment of every day.

Those were all very good memories. He hoped that she felt the same way.

The two of them went back to silence. This silence was no longer odd and confusing, but the kind of comfortable silence between two friends that had once been very close and were meeting months later, reliving their past and laughing over the mistakes they had once made.

"You told me that you would show me taking you out was a bad idea. So far, you've been wrong." Castiel told her as they began to walk out onto the street and into the morning air. He was, unfortunately, right.

Meg had honestly thought that this "date" was going to be a disaster. She had never considered "dating" anyone as a human, let alone Castiel, the angel she had once wanted to have sex with, mostly because she was a demon and that would be all manner of hot, sweaty sin.

She couldn't simply deny that she did have feelings for him, however. He made her feel something other than the normal things a demon should have felt and she hated him for it. But she also loved him for it. It was all too confusing her with these new human things. It felt overwhelming, but she would deal, just as she always had.

"Beginners luck." Meg slung her leather jacket over her shoulder and had it hooked there with one finger. The two of them walked back up the street side by side, with Castiel hovering just a half a foot above her. "Maybe you could take me out again, just so I can show you this was a fluke."

"I'd like that." Castiel replied with a smile. He looked down at Meg, and saw that she was smiling, too.

But Meg had begun to think about something while having breakfast, and now, out in the open, she felt uncomfortable, exposed. She couldn't just smoke out of this meatsuit. She was right when she told Castiel that she was stuck in it, and that didn't make her feel any better about anything.

As a Demon, she never felt vulnerable. Scared? Sure. Crowley was out for her ass most of the time, and it wouldn't have been the first time that the Winchesters had tried to kill her. She could die, after all. They had a demon blade. She had never, in fact, felt vulnerable.

Now? She could die if someone pushed her in front of traffic, or if she fell off of a building. She could no longer see and avoid Reapers, or Hellhounds. Meg had become so pathetically human.

And Crowley, once he found out, would use that to his advantage.


End file.
